Scars
by X-MENobsession
Summary: Cullen and the Inquisitor examine each other's scars, revealing more than they may have wanted. Oneshot. [Trevelyan, Cullen]


**Scars**

Swords clashed and shields bashed in the training arena of Skyhold as Cullen watched his men hone their skills. He shouted advice and criticisms to them, but for the most part he was pleased with what he saw. His heart lightened as he silently mused that with an army this capable and determined the Inquisition would have no trouble accomplishing whatever feat it chose to tackle. Suddenly, a frantic scout ran through the gates of Skyhold. He paused briefly, scanning the courtyard, and made a beeline for Cullen as soon as he had spotted the man.

"Commander," the scout started breathlessly. "You wanted to be notified? The Inquisitor… she's here."

Cullen's heart jumped. "Where?"

"To the west. No more than an hour away."

"Very good." The scout stood at attention but his chest heaved laboriously. "At ease."

"Thank you, Ser."

Cullen turned away from the training grounds and towards the main hall as the scout lay on the ground. He knew Rhysa had been working hard since she defeated Corypheus. She travelled all of Thedas, advising nobility, settling disputes, and ensuring the peace. When she last left Skyhold she seemed so tired. After he kissed her goodbye she looked up at him and her green eyes were lacking the fire that had inspired men to die for her. He decided then that when she came back he would have something special waiting for her.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Rhysa entered Skyhold, completely worn out, to the usual greetings. "Inquisitor… Inquisitor… Inquisitor…" She longed to relieve the heavy burden of her gear and spend a night without any problems, missions, or requests. She walked past the hordes in the great hall waiting to ask her questions or beg for favors into her quarters. Locking the door behind her, she began to strip off her amror. The room was cool as the sun set behind the Frostbacks and streamed through the windows. A sound from her private bathroom distracted her from the calming scene. Running water enticed her to enter the restroom where she was welcomed by a scene of Cullen pouring water into the bath. Instead of his usual armor and feathers he wore only a simple tunic and pants, which Rhysa found quite alluring.

"Commander?" she said and entered the room.

Cullen seemed surprised by her presence. "R… Rhysa!"

"C… Cullen?" She said sarcastically as she approached the tub. "What are you doing?"

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I know you've had a lot on your plate recently… I was hoping to alleviate that stress."

The tub smelled of rose petals and lavender. Rhysa smiled as she realized what he had done for her, though she was still curious about one thing. "Were you offering the bath or your… company?"

Cullen blushed but smirked at her confidently. "I'd be happy to offer my lady whatever she desires."

Maker he was beautiful! Rhysa was proud of the woman she had become: always able to appear strong and brave, as if nothing surprised her, no one caught her off guard, and she could always make a joke in the face of adversity. But Cullen was another story. He made her legs fee like jelly even after all they'd been through together. She could see his muscles through his shirt and wanted so badly to reach out and touch them. Not that he would have argued, but she didn't want to give him the wrong idea. As much as she wanted him her body ached from the journey home and she didn't think she had the energy for an intimate evening. But it had been over a week since they saw each other and she didn't want him to go. "I'd love some company as long as that's all it is."

"Oh." Cullen seemed disappointed.

"It's just that I _am_ tired…"

"No! Please don't apologize. I don't want you to think I had any expectations… Of course I'll stay, if that's what you want."

Rhysa looked at the luxurious bath. "It'll be nice. We can… talk."

Cullen nodded in agreement and the two proceeded to strip and sit in the tub, which was clearly build for two, facing one another. They struggled not to ogle each other. Their nights together had been passionate and wonderful, but they were nights. Now, with the large stained glass windows letting rays of sunlight everything was visible. Rhysa looked at one of those windows, trying to think of what to say. They had talked before, of course. They talked about the Inquisition, about training exercises, equipment, and attack plans. They had talked personally as well but only for brief, fleeting moments. Now that Corypheus was gone and time was not so pressing they were free to talk about anything and Rhysa felt the pressure.

Her gaze wandered to the commander. Blonde hair, amber eyes, just the right amount of stubble… and the body of a Templar. Though in the clear light she saw things she hadn't before. His body was chiseled but also flawed: covered in bruises and scars. A particularly large one on his left bicep caught her eye. "Where'd you get that?" she asked, finally breaking the silence and pointing toward his arm.

Cullen looked down at the mark and chuckled to himself. "A wyvern, if you can believe it."

"Oh, I can believe it." Rhysa lifted her leg to rest her ankle on the side of the tub and revealed a long pink line on her thigh. "Snowy Wyvern. Last time I listen to Vivienne."

Cullen laughed. "Last week Iron Bull told me wanted to teach me a Qunari move that would revolutionize the way the Inquisition fought." He lifted himself slightly out of the water and a deep purple bruise stood in contrast to his pale skin. "This was all I got out of it. He even dented my armor."

"Not the lion armor!" Rhysa teased. "Did he ruffle the feathers as well?"

Cullen sunk back into the water. "Maker, I hate that thing!"

Rhysa's eyebrows shot up. "The black and red feathered collar and the lion shaped helmet that had served as the butt of so many tavern jokes about the commander wasn't even his choice? "What do you mean? Why do you wear it then?"

He shrugged. "When I joined the Inquisition all I had was my Templar armor. Obviously I couldn't wear that and Josephine insisted I be easily distinguishable from the recruits. Leliana designed it. She fancies herself some sort of fashion connoisseur, but I'm not so certain."

Rhysa burst out laughing. "You should have seen what she wanted me to wear to the Winter Palace. I came up with the idea of everyone wearing the same thing just to get out of it!"

Cullen joined in on the laughter. "Thankfully! Maker only knows what she would have come up with for me."

Rhysa rested her arm on the side of the tub and Cullen placed his hand over hers, lovingly stroking it. His thumb ran over a small scar on her knuckle. "And what about this?" he asked, enjoying their base of conversation.

Rhysa sighed, remembering. "Murray Finnemore."

"Who is that? An apostate? Red Templar? Venatori?"

"A boy from Ostwick. He tried to kiss me so I punched him in the mouth."

"Over an innocent kiss?" Cullen seemed amused and pleased.

"I didn't want to kiss him." She admired her hand from afar. "My sister, Fionne, told him I liked him in retaliation for breaking one of her precious dolls."

"You have siblings?" he asked. "I mean, I'd heard you were the youngest of your family but you don't often speak of them."

"I don't always have the nicest things to say. I suppose I've learned to keep quiet."

"Still, I'd like to learn about where you come from. What are your siblings' names?"

Rhysa sighed and leaned her head back. "In birth order: Brody, Idris, Fionne, Lyra, Dillon, Rhysa." She laughed to herself. "Sorry, didn't mean to include myself in there. Noble force of habit."

"Cullen counted silently. "5?!" he exclaimed. "And I thought 3 siblings was a lot…"

Rhysa scoffed. "And try being the youngest. Idris was the perfect one, Fionne the beauty…"

"I'm sure I wouldn't agree with that."

She couldn't help but smile. She had never felt particularly important until she survived the Conclave. And Cullen brought it to another level. When she stumbled through the snow in the aftermath of Haven everyone was certain she was blessed by Andraste, but Cullen was merely glad she survived and the only one to tell her so. "Regardless," she continued, "the Trevelyans aren't a subject I much enjoy." She dipped into the cooling water until her chin touched the surface. "So tell me about the Rutherfords."

"Well… my family moved from Honnleath to South Reach during the blight."

"You already told me that. And you have three siblings: a brother and two sisters." Cullen smiled at the details of his life she bothered to remember. "What're their names?"

"In birth order," he responded sarcastically, "Donal, Cullen, Mia, and Tara. Sorry," he said with a fake chuckle. "Didn't mean to include myself."

"So tell me about them," she instructed, amused at how he mocked her.

"Donal… Last I heard he took over my father's store. He's also engaged, though he's had three engagements and I've never received a wedding invitation. And Mia…" Rhysa could see in the face Cullen made as he remembered his younger sister how much he cared for her. She didn't feel the need to bring up the letters she had 'accidentally' read from Mia that he left on his desk. "Mia's married… I'm sure they'll have children soon enough." He looked at Rhysa knowingly. "You'd like Mia. She's bold, like you. Not afraid to say what she thinks, or call me out on my misgivings." He mumbled the last bit but Rhysa still hear it and chuckled.

"And Tara?" she asked. "She's the youngest, like me, correct?"

Cullen looked to the steadily darkening windows and Rhysa felt the tension left in the silence before he said anything. "Can we speak of something else?"

Rhysa sat up, but Cullen still seemed lost in his own memories. She searched her mind for something to pull him out, something dramatic enough to offer a good distraction. "Fionne cheats on her husband." It was all she could think to say, but it seemed to do the trick as Cullen's head shot back toward her. "At least, I'm pretty sure…"

It took a moment but Cullen released a smile and she relaxed into the water. She thought back to where this conversation had gone awry, where they had found such amusing common ground. Lifting her leg she brought Cullen's thoughts back to the gory subject matter as she pointed to her ankle and said, "This is from a Hurlock Alpha."

Cullen smirked as he knew he could easily beat that. He turned slightly to show the back of his shoulder. "Dragonling."

Rhysa stood in the tub, displaying a red, burned hip and spoke proudly, "Dragon."

"Breathing fire or lightning?" he asked, examining the mark.

"Lightning," she answered confidently.

"That's fairly impressive," Cullen began and Rhysa sat back down with a smug expression. "But take a look at this."

Cullen's foot popped out of the water on Rhysa's right. Pink, crumpled skin covered the top of it and the bottom third of his shin. She was swept with guilt for never noticing such a large mark before. "What's the story behind that?"

"A mage escaped the circle and I was tasked with tracking him down. He shot acid at me. I deflected it downward with my shield but I was young and naïve. It went straight through my boots."

"Did he get away?"

Cullen leaned back. "Of course not. It was my job to bring him back and that's exactly what I did."

"You were a good Templar," Rhysa remarked, almost to herself, as she realized just how much Cullen had given to the Order, both mentally and physically.

"I certainly tried to be. A lot of good it did, though. The Fereldan Circle, Kirkwall, the Breach…" He sighed. "I'm starting to think they were all inevitable."

"That's because they were. But you always did what you could to help. Trying to restore order in Kirkwall and, without you, who knows if we would have been able to defeat Corypheus. And I'm sure you did what you could at the circle. It was just…"

"I tried to kill them. All of them."

He spoke so bluntly she shifted uncontrollably, causing cold water to splash over the sides of the tub. Cullen had told her little of what happened at the circle but she knew it was more than he had shared with anyone else. She had wondered if it was because he couldn't remember much of it or didn't want to. Either way, she never pressed the issue. "I…" she stammered, but there was truly no response to such a statement.

Cullen continued anyway. "We were overrun by abominations and blood magic. They trapped me, tortured me. When the Hero of Fereldan found me I begged her to call for the Right of Annulment. Everyone in that tower needed to die."

"But not all of the mages were using blood magic, right?" Rhysa had always been able to see the Templar in him. It showed in the way he stood, the way he wielded his blade. But now in him she could see a Templar's rage. The sheer and utter hatred of magic. It was not as attractive as the other qualities.

"No, but there was no way to tell who was and who wasn't! It had escalated too quickly, gone too far! I have to think of my duty. It was the only way."

"But there was another way!" Rhysa knew Cullen had been through a lot at the circle but his anger was fueling her own. "The Right of Annulment was never called. The Hero saved the mages as well as _you_!"

Cullen's look of rage quickly subsided. He looked down despondently and Rhysa immediately knew she had done wrong. She had argued with him about a subject that was painful for him to even discuss.

"The water's cold," he remarked before Rhysa could word her apology. He stood, wrapped a towel around himself and began to gather his clothes. She still couldn't find the right string of words to say and merely sat in silence. Cullen entered her bedroom where he dried off and dressed. Rhysa knew he was preparing to leave. She didn't want him to. She didn't want to wait however long it would take for them to have another conversation like this. She still didn't know what to say but certainly she would think of something. She got out of the tub and ran into the bedroom without even trying to cover herself for fear that she would miss him. But she found him, fully clothed, sitting on her bed with a pained expression on his face. He looked up at her. "You're right."

Rhysa gently sat next to him and placed a comforting hand on his arm, unsure of how much affection he wanted at this point.

"There _was_ another way. There always was. I wanted to believe… that the Order did what was right. Always. But that's just not true." He shook his head. "I've seen so much firsthand to prove the Templars are not what I wanted them to be. It's still to accept it… and the consequences…" They were silent for a moment while Rhysa couldn't help but feel that there was a part of this story she was missing. "You asked about my sister, Tara. She was only eight when I left home but from what I remember… Mia and Donal were always so loud and raucous, but Tara was," A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "She was _gentle_. Years later, while I was with the Templars, I got a letter from my parents. As it turned out Tara was able to use magic."

Rhysa let out a small gasp. She knew it was rude but after all that he had been through with mages she never would have guessed that he was related to one.

"My parents asked for my advice. They didn't want to shelter an apostate but they had heard things about the circles. They believed I could help, knowing more on the subject than they."

"What did you tell them to do?"

"Send her to the circle, of course. She would learn how to control her magic and there she would be… safe." The last word seemed to stab at him as it left his mouth.

"Did she go to the circle you were at?"

"No. I made sure of that. It would have been a conflict of interests." He chuckled slightly, though it sounded hollow. "I was following the rules."

Rhysa couldn't shake the feeling that this story didn't end well and hesistantly asked, "What happened?"

He swallowed hard. "According to letters from my mother Tara was actually happy in the circle. She had taken up gardening. Her elfroot was so healthy and robust that the Senior Enchanter put her in charge of their entire plot of it for health poultices. In the letter my mother sounded… proud."

"And you were surprised?"

"It's rare to see parents of mages show pride for their children. As sad a thought as that may be." He closed his eyes and took a minute before continuing. "Eventually, one of the mages in her circle became possessed, an abomination. It ravaged the circle… other became possessed. The Templars called for the Right of Annulment. They all died." His face was flushed and eyes red. "Including Tara."

"Cullen," Rhysa started, almost wanting to cry seeing how close to it he was. "It wasn't your fault."

"Of course it was!" He snapped and she jumped back. "I _trusted_ the Templars! I _promised_ my parents she would be safe! My sister was no abomination – she was a young woman who liked plants. And she died because of my naiveté!" He leaned forward, holding his head in his hands, fingers running through blonde strands. "No one outside of my family knows about Tara. I stopped writing home for a long time after that. The official Templar statement was that they had to protect the innocent people outside of the circle. There was no other way. I forced myself to believe that. The alternative… to admit the order I pledged myself to was wrong and Tara could have been saved… it was too much to live with." His hand reached for his chest, as if to ensure a heart still beat there and hadn't fallen completely into his stomach. He glanced over at Rhysa. "You… make it a little easier."

She rubbed his back lightly and whispered, "I love you." It was the only thing she could think to say.

He sat up, more composed though his face was still a hundred shades of red. "I love you too." He tried to smile but it wasn't easy. "I suppose it's your turn now." He brushed a strand of hair away from her face and thumbed the large scar that crossed her eye socket. "Where did this come from?"

Rhysa knew from the start of this conversation that that particular scar would come up. She acknowledged Cullen's desperation to change the subject, and complied. "The Conclave. I know I was miraculously saved by Andraste or whatever but did you really expect me to be able to walk out of that completely unscathed?"

He gave a half smile. "It wouldn't surprise me."

She returned the grin. "Yes, well, it wasn't enough to give me this weird power over the veil but it also had to mutilate me." She shook her face, so that Cullen's hand fell off. She hated that scar. It was large and impossible for anyone not to notice. She could see people's gaze dart to it when she spoke and cringed every time.

"I think it suits you," he said quietly, staring at the scar himself. No, not staring, _admiring_. "It draws attention to your eyes."

"Thank you," she answered quietly, her heart lightened. She placed her hand on Cullen's cheek and her fingers naturally found that scar above his lip that she loved so much to kiss. "And this?"

His eyes darted away and she worried that she had hit another nerve. "It's not a very heroic story," he responded, awkwardly but not sadly, so she pressed on.

"That doesn't mean it's not a good story."

He sighed. "When I was stationed in Kirkwall there was this bar that the Templars liked to frequent when we were off duty." Rhysa smiled, knowing that any story about Cullen that began in a bar had to be entertainment. "There was this one Templar, I forget his name now, but he began complaining about the Fereldans. He said they were as dumb as their dogs and would be conquered by some decent civilization soon enough. I got so angry I punched him. He punched me back and eventually it turned into a brawl. We both got kicked out and I got this scar."

Rhysa giggled. "And what did he get?"

Cullen looked at her devilishly. "Much worse."

They both laughed and Cullen seemed to realize for the first time that she wasn't wearing any clothes. He grabbed the wet towel he had laid on the bed and wrapped it around her. "Thank you," she said. "For everything. This was a wonderful evening."

"It doesn't have to end just yet." He put his arms around her and pulled her into a kiss. She returned it lovingly. That night was different than any other they had ever had. Suddenly it was as if they knew each other in a way they hadn't before. Cullen sighed as Rhysa lay beside him, never more certain than that moment of how much he loved her.


End file.
